


Prince Holden Charming

by MayaTheBea



Category: Cinderella - All Media Types, The Catcher in the Rye - J. D. Salinger
Genre: Gen, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayaTheBea/pseuds/MayaTheBea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Charming tells his story, in the voice of Holden Caulfield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prince Holden Charming

If there's one thing I hate, it's a phony. Like all of those girls who like to follow me around like they want to marry me or something. Of course, they really do, and that's kinda depressing.

My name is Prince Edmund Lucius Xavier Garret Joe Charming, but if you really want to know the truth all those names are a bit depressing. I mean, there's nothing more depressing than some lousy kid trying to say your name and it taking a goddam hour. Who wants to chew the fat with someone with six names and a title? No one, that's who. Everyone calls me Prince Charming instead.

So, as I was saying, there were all these girls in my kingdom. If you want to know the truth, it's my parents kingdom, but it's as good as mine as soon as I marry. Anyway, all these girls in our kingdom want to marry me. They only want me for my money though, I swear to God, you can tell. I hate phonies like that.

So, anyway, my dad gets this crummy idea to have a ball, since I can’t choose one of those phonies to marry me. A ball, that really killed me. My dad’s a real king, he is. My mum agreed with him. They both want me to just shoot the breeze with a few thousand girls, and whichever one interests me enough to start necking, I’ll marry. Some plan.

I swear to God, five thousand girls show up. I go around dancing with them and they swoon over me for chrissake. None of them are even pretty, and all they do is talk about my goddam castle. It’s a lousy party anyway, but then this girl comes in who’s really pretty. All the other girls had on a helluva lot of makeup, but this one was wearing nothing but a mask. I start dancing with her, not corny or anything, just a waltz. She and I start chewing the fat, and she’s a helluva lot like me. She hates phonies like her sisters. All of a sudden, she looks at the giant clock and tells me she has to leave. She told me some story about a curfew, as if anyone would have a curfew for a prince’s ball. Maybe she’s a phony like the rest of them, but at least she’s nice.

As she left, I noticed her shoes. They were made of glass. Glass. If she ran or something, I swear to God, they’d break. One of her shoes came off as she got into her coach. It was an orange coach. Can you believe it? An orange carriage. Her parents must be real phonies. Like I was saying, as she pulls her foot into the coach, her shoe falls off. I try to tell her, but the coach starts driving away. Coach drivers are all like that. All coach drivers are phonies. I kept the shoe, in case I ever saw her again.

When the party was over, my dad asked me which one I liked best. I start to tell him, but then I remember I forgot to ask her name. If you really want to know the truth, I was too busy shooting the breeze to ask. I always do that, forget to ask people’s names. When you’re just chewing the fat, it doesn’t matter, but parents always want to know people’s names. He got all upset and all, and said that there was no way to find her now.

 I tell my dad about her shoe, so he makes one of his dumb proclamations. He sends heralds all over the kingdom to announce that whoever fit the shoe would be my bride. It was a stupid idea. Anyone could fit a shoe. It would have been smarter to have another lousy ball and hope that she comes. Then I could ask her for her name.

We went around the next day to each house and made girls try on the shoe. Nobody fit. Her foot was wide and short, and it’s kinda unique. Eventually, we got to the last house in town. They had two daughters. They were both real phonies. Then I heard a sound from the closet. There was someone in the goddam closet. I opened the door, and there was the girl. She was crying and beating on the door. It was really depressing.

My dad makes her put on the lousy shoe, and it fits. Big surprise. It was her shoe, it was supposed to fit. My dad announces that I can marry her, and her sisters start crying. I give them a bag of gold and they shut up to count it. What a bunch of phonies. My kids better not end up like that. And my kids won’t end up with six names, either. They’ll just have one, like my wife, Cinderella. She said her sisters called her that because they made her clean the goddam fireplace. That’s depressing.

So, anyway, as I was saying, we lived happily ever after. Except when we see lousy phonies. I hate phonies, I really do.


End file.
